Unrequited Love

Chapter 10 - Luciana

My eyes snapped open as I heard a faint knocking on my window. It took me a few moments for all my memories to hit me in full force. Alexei's face came into view as some of senses returned. Rubbing my eyes out, I stepped out into the chilly air as I wrapped my arms around my body, in an attempt to stay warm. The temperatures were absolutely ridiculous here in Russia - and that was saying a lot since I was used to the bitter New York winters. Wordlessly, Alexei handed me a dark green parka as I gratefully took it from his hands and wrapped it around my shivering body.

Clutching the parka tightly, I followed him as he led us up a narrow cobblestone path. The sight in front of me, even in the dark, had my jaw hanging open. Majestic would be an understatement for the white marble mansion in front of me. Small lamps surrounded the house, giving it a glow as we crossed a patch of soft, neatly trimmed grass to enter from the back. We walked slowly as I admired every single inch of the mansion, appreciating the amount of time and effort that must have gone into building and designing it. It looked like it had come straight out of some fantasy novel - perfect for a mafia family. As we passed by the front entrance, I saw a small phrase inscribed into the door in Russian.

Братья вне крови.

Huh. I wonder what that meant.

Alexei opened the small door of the back entrance as he led me down a small corridor. Pictures of various men framed the wall as they looked at me stoically. As we neared the end of the passage, a particular oil painting caught my eye. It was a young Mikhail - he looked to be around 20, give or take. Although, he had the same blank expression as the others, there was a light in his eyes. That light had seemed to dim as he grew older. High cheekbones and a strong jawline with no stubble greeted me as I appreciated his beauty through the thick frame. Mikhail Petrov - as was written underneath the painting - was no doubt a beautiful man on the outside. On the inside, I couldn't say for sure.

However, I was in no position to judge him. Everyone went through life altering events at least once in their life that would change their entire perspective - maybe even leave them with a couple of scars. Note the sarcasm, by the way. Just like the way, I had been scarred by my Father, I'm sure that Mikhail must also have some skeletons in his closet. Skeletons that I was not willing to get familiar with. It was honestly hard to empathise with a killer. No matter how hard I tried, nothing would change that fact. The way that he had so coolly shot a man, within an instant had me blood running cold and realising that this man was capable of far, far worse than that. In my eyes, he would always be a cold blooded and ruthless criminal - and I would despise him for that.

Speaking of the devil, I heard faint footsteps behind me as it dawned on me that Alexei was nowhere to be seen.

"Admiring my face, malyshka?" Drawled an oh so familiar voice from behind me.

What was it with him calling me malyshka? What did it even mean?

"Don't get too cocky Mikhail. I was checking your last name."

"Uh huh sure." He muttered in a not so inaudible voice as he rolled his eyes.

Deciding to ignore his sarcastic reply, I faced him.

"Petrov huh? So are you in some mafia gang or something? You like to kidnap random women for shits and giggles or what?"

I knew for sure by this point that Mikhail was definitely part of the Russian - the leader or Pakhan, as they liked to call him. But I just wanted to hear it from his mouth.

His eyes narrowed at my question as he took a step closer to me.

"You should really watch that mouth of yours, malyshka. Wouldn't want you to get in trouble because of that."